


Always on my Mind

by Canon_Breaker



Series: Song Inspired [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, a little bit of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-09
Updated: 2014-04-09
Packaged: 2018-01-18 19:11:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1439638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Canon_Breaker/pseuds/Canon_Breaker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Freya just wants to go home, sick and tired of the Earth. Somehow, Loki finds it in himself to provide her with a little respite.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Always on my Mind

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd and unchecked. All mistakes are my own.

Sunlight streamed through a break in the clouds, light flooding the bottom floor of their shared house. Holed up in the box window, Freya curled up, head resting against the glass, watching the water droplets race down each other. Her hand lifted, tracing the path. The city had been covered in rain for nearly a week. This silence was welcomed and she listened to the sounds of the city, so different to the sounds of home. Of Asgard. She breathed deeply, the troubled sigh leaving her lips, ghosting the glass in front of her.   
“Are you still there?” Loki’s drawl filtered through the open space, the sound making her flinch, skull cracking on the window. “It has been six months since we arrived and you have done nothing but mope.”   
“It is more than you have done, at least I have experienced the city.” She snapped back, throwing him a filthy look before turning back to the window, watching a man cross the road. Recognising the broad shoulders, she watched Thor turn back to the house and wave briefly. Her fingers wiggled in reply and Loki scoffed.  
“Do you remember how that ended? How Thor brought you home…”  
“This isn’t home!” Freya stood up but Loki moved first, darting to the other side of the room, standing three steps up in case she launched herself at him.  
“I know that just as well as you.” He growled, tensing as she dropped back into the window seat, legs pulled to her chest. She looked up at him, unmoving. Her heart caught in her mouth, choking as she felt the tears spill wildly onto her cheeks, coursing down to drip onto her shirt.   
“Do you?” She said, tears falling silently. “Do you really know, Loki?” Her forehead was screwed up tight, her eyes shut, light pounding behind them.   
There was a shift in the air around her, the cushions dipping as Loki settled besides her, leaning against the back of the seat. Her eye opened, and she saw him sat, rather sprawled across the seat. He had his legs spread, one knee pulled up. His hands were placed on his thighs, fingers drumming out a rhythm. It sounded familiar, a steady pounding in beat of six, like the horses hooves as they galloped towards the Bifrost on a summer’s day to travel to Vanaheim.   
“Come.” He gestured to her, finger crooking, his face softened. Freya moved slowly but found herself curling between his legs, face buried into the soft material of his shirt. He shifted beneath her, settling his hands on her back. His fingers began their tapping once again, slipping to flat circles to soothe her. She breathed in deeply, exhaling slowly as if she was falling asleep.

Sleep had come to her, or so Loki had thought when he tried to move; Freya’s fingers tightened in his shirt, the material scrunching beneath her grip.   
“Don’t…”  
Pausing, Loki looked down at her, moving her hand gently, his fingers wrapped around hers. When she didn’t flinch or push him away, he took his other hand to her hair, winding it around, following the curve of the waves. He looked at the blonde, at the contrast between her tawny hair and the pale cream of his skin.  
“I will not…” He murmured, still smoothing her hair, his breathing slowing.  
“Will you talk to me?”  
“Talk to you?” Looking down at her, his hand paused on her neck moving to curl a finger beneath her chin, tilting her face up. Loki offered a look of confusion. “Talk to you about what?”  
“About… Home.” She blinked, tongue flicking out to wet her lips. “Talk to me about Asgard.”  
“And that will do what, exactly?” He asked, not unkindly as Freya’s lower lip started to tremble. “Hush.”  
“…Please.” Voice cracking, she tried to maintain her composure. “Loki, do not make me beg you.” Desperate tones took her voice, and as he looked down at her, the god resumed his stroking. Her hair was soft around his fingers, but he could feel the gaze of her eyes pierce his throat.   
“Enough, Freya… Do you remember the halls?” He asked, closing his eyes, taking himself back to Asgard. A moment passed. “I would like an answer.”  
“Yes.”  
“And of those halls, do you remember the…” Loki lost himself in the descriptions of the sweeping arcs, towering above all that walked beneath them; the gold and silver which laced the doors in elegant patterns. He wove tales of the fields and the steeds which galloped within them, the races they had enjoyed over the rolling hills and sweeping valleys. He took her to the taverns where there had been nothing but songs of the ages sung loud and brash, flowing like ale into tankards.

Loki grunted, hand whipping out to grab the arm of the hand which pushed at his shoulder. Freya was a warm weight on his chest, settled and sleeping in his lap like a child. He had conjured a blanket, a thin pale green weave that suited her complexion, draping it over the pair of them although she had been warmth enough for him. A smile had slid over his face, the match to her complexion was pleasing.  
“Easy, brother.” Thor moved, freeing his wrist with an easy flick. “Do not move. She is sleeping.”  
“As I am well aware.” Loki hissed, glaring up at Thor as he put his hand back on Freya’s shoulder, fingers dancing in light circles on the strip of skin between her t-shirt and the blanket.  
“I have not seen her sleep in so long.”  
“She misses home, brother. Freya is not well-matched to this place.” Loki’s lip curled despite Thor’s nod of agreement.  
“I believe our return home is imminent.” Thor commented, tucking a strand of Freya’s hair behind her ear. She turned, twisting to hide from his touch and pressing her face a little harder into Loki’s side. He rolled his eyes, his attempts to extricate himself failing with her leg looping over his, as if she was pinning him down.   
“The quicker we are home, the quicker Fandral will have her at complete ease.” Thor laughed, keeping the sound quiet to avoid disturbing the sleeping goddess.   
“You will pay for that comment when she awakes.” Loki warned, pulling the blanket back over her shoulders.  
“If I am not found bruised, then we must fear that fever has taken her.”


End file.
